


Practical Necromancy

by DinosaurTheology



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Character Death, Consequences, Dark Magic, Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Love, Magic, Magic-Users, Multi, Necromancy, Pain, Resurrection, Sacrifice, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 07:06:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10531398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinosaurTheology/pseuds/DinosaurTheology
Summary: Something awful happens to Marco. Star will move all the heavens and all the earths to change it. The consequences will be dire and she does not care.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Star is Daron Nefcy's and I love it and her. Don't be put off by the mention of death. He gets better. Really! The whole story is an exploration of death, what it really means, mourning, sacrifice and recovery. My schedule is gonna be a little intense for a while--firefighting school starts tomorrow--but I'm dedicated to getting up a chapter per week of this thing. I hope we all enjoy the ride!

Saturday dawned frigid. The cold did not let up, even well into the afternoon. It was rare enough for Southern California that news anchors and weather men commented on it for the next coupld of days, during their broadcasts, before filing it behind local human interest stories about a girl feeding ice cream to a squirrel or an elderly man talking to pigeons. March in Echo Creek, just a few miles from always sunny San Diego, wasn't supposed to feel like this. Ice was not supposed to peek out from around the clouds at six in the morning and then at four in the afternoon threaten again. No one from channel six's meteorologist to channel nine's fortune teller could explain where the freak weather had come from. It was a mystery.

Star knew, though. Or at least she thought she knew. The fields of goetian resonance in certain Mewmans, especially women of the royal family, waxed strong when powerful emotions kicked down the more or less (considerably less, in Star's case, her mother might have said) carefully constructed defenses erected around them and proceeded to prance with lashing manes to trample everything in sight.

This was why the women in Star's family developed cheek emblems, after all. A tiny manifestation of the magical energy surging inside them, ready to boil over at the slightest provocation, so that some of the pressure could be let off. It's also why Star's eyes, and her emblems, glowed bright when she dipped down, just like her mother, just like all her grandmother's back to Celena the Shy. A tiny, tiny leak could prevent major eruptions later on.

This leak, though? Way more than tiny. Star realized, about halfway through the service while the tall human in a black suit droned on about angels and stuff (angels were cool but what did they have to do with any of this?), that her emotions shrieked far louder than the simple defense of cheek emblems could begin to muffle. She cried and cried into her pillow until it was soaked and soggy? The sky followed suit and drowned the flowers (why did they deserve to live, anyway, when he couldn't anymore?). She felt cold and sure she could never be warm again? The world would be cold too, at least in Star's vicinity, and damn the rays of sunshine that might try to make it otherwise.

She looked hard, for a few moments, and found Janna. Thank all my grammas and their grammas before them, Star thought. I'm not sure I could have made it another minute without seeing a friendly face.

Well, friendly-ish. Friendlyish. That wasn't a word but... it really was the only way to describe Janna right this minute. It was her, at least. Her face was "friendly" in the sense that it wasn't the face of an enemy but... there was some stuff wrong. Lots of stuff. Her eyes, especially. Those big,dark eyes that usually glittered with mischief seemed flat and cold. Star wondered how much of it was shock, how much grief and what measure of pure anger might be mixed with the previous emotions.

Only one way to find out. Once more into the crying dogs of war, Star thought. She'd learned that line, or one very like it, in a cool, cool play they'd read in English class about an Earth king who, long ago, had defeated a far superior army in a land far from his home. It was the kind of story that Star could really sink her teeth into.

She offered a tight smile and waved. "So, uh, hey, Janna-banana... hey."

Her eyes narrowed. "Hey, Star."

"Er... it was... pretty, today? Is that the right word? Pretty?"

"You can call it a pretty service," she said. "Sure. Might as well. It's as good as anything."

"Oh. Okay, then. It was pretty." She winced. "I said that already. Sorry." She stood straighter. "I guess that's what I really wanted to say. I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry. For what happened."

Janna shrugged. "It's not your fault, Star." She paused to think, a moment, and laid one slender finger against her cheek. "Well, I guess it kinda is your fault, in a way. I mean, not really, since you didn't do anything, but if it wasn't for you then it wouldn't have happened the way it did." When Star's face seemed to fall to the floor and the icy wind crew crueler, Janna amended her comment. "It could have still happened, though."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It could have been a bus, or something. Like, y'know, a leopard could have mauled him. Happens all the time."

"It does?"

"In Bombay, maybe? I read an article about it in National Geographic. I'm not the one you ought to be saying this to, anyway."

"No?" When Janna shook her head, Star asked, "Who, then?"

"I guess you could start with Jackie, maybe?"

"I tried to talk to her last night," Star said. "She is... not taking this super well. I thought she was going to actually slap me."

"Well, he was her boyfriend. But you're right. That is serious. I can't imagine Jackie slapping a volleyball, let alone another person. Just give her some time, I guess."

"Yeah, sure," Star said. "Sure. But if I just go to her and--"

"Time, Star. You really do need to give her some."

"Okay."

Janna cut her eyes to the side. "Hey, chick, listen... I've got to go now--this is way too real for me right this minute--but can I talk to you later? It's about something important."

"Sure, Jay-bee," Star said. "Sure, sure. If it's something I can help with, like, your grief or some--"

"You can help," Janna said, "but not like that. Just... don't lock your window tonight, okay?

"Okay," Star said. "What time are you going to come by?"

"The witching hour," she said. "When else?"

"Sure, see you then."

Janna nodded. Before taking her leave, she gripped Star's tricep. "Omnia mors aequat, Star," she said.

"Huh?" It was some old Earth language, Star knew, and probably really wise but... she really wasn't up on her famous, creepy Earth quotes.

"Omnia mors aequat," Janna said. "It's one of those things Bernardo told me, when we were still hot and heavy. That and pulvus et umbra sumus."

"Yup, yup." Star nodded. "Pulverized umbrella to you, too, bae. Pulverized umbrella to you." Janna finally did leave without so much as casting a single, further glance over her shoulder at Star.

She considered, a moment after, looking for Mrs. Diaz. Angie was so soft, so comforting, smelled so good when she took Star in her arms to hug her and tell her that things were going to be okay. She reconsidered, though, and shook the thought out of her head like so many cobwebs. It just wasn't done, Moon would tell her. Not that. Not now. Star sighed. It's not going to be okay, after all, and she knows that better than anyone. I can't ask her to lie about it and she sure isn't gona feel like telling that lie to me, of all people, right now. I think I'm just gonna go... I'm starting to get in the way, here.

Star headed back to her room, feet growing a hundred pounds heavier with each step. She took one last look at the beautifully carved, hateful stone before leaving, though, and let what was graven on it also cut deep into her heart:

Marco Diaz  
2002-2017


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One week of firefighter school down, too many more to go.

She forgot all about Janna's promise to visit--it was a good day to forget things, especially if you possibly could and maybe even better if you couldn't--until something tapped at her window sill. Star rolled over in bed, glanced towards the window with puffy eyes and said, "So, is that yer ghost coming to haunt me, bud, or just, y'know, a branch tapping on the window."

The quick, slim brown flame slips inside. "Neither, duh. It's me."

"Oh. Hey Jay-bee. 'Sup."

"Same ol', same ol'," she said. "Piercing grief, crushing guilt. Just the usual shit."

"Oh, okay, cool, cool, cool." Star sighed. "So, if you were coming to cheer me up you might as well forget it. It's not gonna happen... and you started off kinda bad anyway, sorry."

"I wasn't gonna try to cheer you up, dummy," she said. 

"Hey! Rude."

She shrugged. "It's been a long few days and I haven't had my forty five minutes of beauty sleep in any of them." 

"Too, y'know..." Star thought of words that might be appropriate. Sad? Not deep enough, nowhere near. Broken up? Too colloquial. It seemed to lessen the lump of agony shrieking in her breast. So she settled for the vague. "Well, y'know."

"That, yeah," Janna said, "but I've been busy, too. Gotta keep myself busy or I'll go nuts." She slapped a brown, leather bound book down beside Star. "Check it out, chick."

She examined the cover. It read The Munich Manual in tall, red letters. Star narrowed her eyes. "So, uh, Janna... if this Munich Manual is anything like our Mewnic Manual... I kinda don't know where you're going with this but..."

"I don't know, Star," she said. "What's the Mewnic Manual about?"

"Just, y'know, fun stuff like contacting demons and conjuring spirits and all that super awesomery," Star said. She takes Janna's shoulders. "I know your feeling as awful as any of the rest of us but... this is not a good idea."

"Okay, Star, number one: conjuring demons is always a good idea, otherwise I'd never see my bae, and number the second, that's not all our Munich Manual here on Earth is good for."

"So, er... what else is it for?" Star asked. "Is it for grief counseling? Cause I think we could all use some of that. Like, now."

"It's kinda like grief counseling," Janna said. "It should do a little grief lessening, at least. The Munich Manual was written, like, a kadriglion years ago and, get this, Star, it has instructions in it for raising the dead." She grinned. It seemed a little too wide, even if the fangs she sported were not real, a trifle feral for comfort. "Good plan or great plan?"

Everything in Star screamed that this was an awful plan. Some things, even if they hurt more than you could imagine, might end up better than the alternative. This had the potential to go narwhal shaped in a bigger, darker way than Star could cope with, especially in her current condition. But Marco... She tried to force it, force him, out of her head. Marco wouldn't want this. Marco was the safe kid. Marco would remind her that Janna and her witchy stuff were basically nuts and couldn't lead anywhere but to a zombie apocalypse and everybody getting their brains eaten on at least three dimensions. Marco... Marco... Marco wasn't here. 

Marco's not here, Star reminded herself. He's cold and in the ground and miserable and there are probably worms and crickets and things chewing on him and I want him back. She set her face in a grim mask "I'm game. When are we gonna do this thing? Tonight?"

Janna shook her head. "Not tonight. I've got to get some stuff ready, got to prepare. My witchy stuff isn't like your 'pew, pew, pew,' blast magic. There's a big list of ingredients, like cooking a stew, and they all have to be exactly right."

"Like a witch's brew?"

"Well, we don't technically call it that, but yeah."

"Oh, well, okay. So... when will you have the stuff for you witch's not-brew?"

"How's tomorrow at 9pm sound?"

"Like it's way, way too far from now. But this afternoon would have been too far, too, y'know?"

"I know, chick, trust me. This has been real."

"Yeah... a little too real. Now it's time for it to get weird." Her cheek emblems darken, a trifle, and the beginnings of a tail begin to sprout from the bottom of each heart.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week of training down, another chapter posted. It's how I'm keeping track of the weeks/my sanity. Anwyay, this one's very... experimental, I guess. I've loved Cormac McCarthy for years and wanted to try a little of his style because of the between life and death/dreamlike quality of this moment in the story. As always, I appreciate everyone who is reading any enjoying this story.

Marco traversed the quiet, dim corridor on soft steps. It wasn't silent, not quite, no more than it was a full dark with no stars. Some one or thing murmured in the far corners right out of his hearing. He could make out the sound but not the sense of it, could hear the urgency in what was said but not the words themselves. Light, likewise the whispers, wove in and out of perception at the edges of the hallway without ending or beginning. It was enough to ascertain that this arena was enclosed from the sky, where or what ever that was, and that even if not alone he must do this on his own.

After walking an inch or two hundred miles, a man stepped out of the mist. He stood nearly a head taller than Marco, well over six feet, and displayed both broad shoulders and a considerable paunch. A cloud of silvery hair floated around the lined, debauched face. He wore, for some obscure reason, a pilot's uniform. So, Marco said. So. I've finally gone insane.

Have you now?

I'm in a dark corridor, he said, and I don't know where I am. I just know that I'm talking to a British pilot that came out of nowhere.

I think you know very well where you are, Marco Ubaldo Diaz, and that you've got a problem or two beyond mere insanity. Or, perhaps, it's more of an opportunity than a problem. He shrugged. It's all the same to me, after all. However you want to approach this thing.

What thing?

The great beyond, lad.

You mean I... I--I'm...

Unecessarily and annoyingly repetitive? Yes, you're that with bells on, as they say.

No, I mean I'm... He gulped. Dead.

Dead, taking the big sleep, napping a dirt nap, whatever you want to call it. There's such an infinite variety of terminology.

Marco fought for words against a slack jaw and dry mouth. I can't believe it. I just can't.

The pilot stroked his chin. Tell me, Mr. Diaz, what's the last thing you remember?

Star and I were fighting a monster. A scrap of stray magic infested the statue of Ol' Bitey, another of the original Echo Creek possums, and it turned into sort of a demon... were-possum... thing. I remember that it was really fast and really filthy, and that it had these long--long--freakin claws. He shuddered. I'm remembering those claws pretty well. They, sorta... ripped me open, a little, I guess.

And do people often survive being disemboweled by magically constructed were-possums?

I guess they don't, do they?

It does have a reputation as being almost invariably fatal, yes. I suppose that you could survive a were-possum evisceration--anything is technically, mathematically possible, after all--but, really... after all that, would you want to?

The memory of the claws ripping into him, parting skin and muscle like paper, grew stronger. He remembered... things... spilling out. Star freaked and threw a vicious, magical tantrum that turned Ol' Bitey into a beetle that she stomped on with one purple rhinocerous boot. Janna turned a queer, pale green and lost her lunch. Jackie just pointed and stared.

Nah, he said. I guess, all things considered, I wouldn't want to. He frowned. So, are you supposed to be my spirit guide, or something? Cause if you are then you really kinda suck at it. I don't know where I am and I feel even worse than I did when I was dying.

You are in Rat's Alley, if names have any meaning here, he said. And I am not anything as passe as your "spirit guide." Think of me as a friend, if you would, or a companion if you cannot. I'm not here to guide you, so to speak, just--

Annoy me?

He glowered. To travel with you, my good man. Or, if you would prefer, we might play a game.

A game?

A game of chess.

The board appeared as if from nowhere, along with two chairs. The pilot took his seat.

Marco furrowed his brow. This doesn't seem like the time for fun and games, dude. Nevertheless, he took a seat. Why chess?

Your sensei is a fan, is he not?

He says that chess develops the warrior's mind just as tang soo do develops his body, yeah. But we only played video chess on his PS2.

A perfect blend of the ancient and modern, he said. Bravo. Now, shall we play?

They sat and played. The pilot beat Marco each time, and each defeat proved more crushing than the last. Eventually, he scowled. I'm beginning to believe that you aren't trying.

Chess hasn't ever really been my game. Ping-pong I'm awesome at, unless I'm playing Tom's cheating ass, but chess is a no go. He stroked his chin. Hey, if I am dead and all, why am I not with Tom? We always mean to hang out together, more. This would seem like a really good time.

Do you want to be with Tom?

The dark eyes transfixed him through the breast. He squirmed under that gaze a moment before he said, No. Not really.

And where do you want to be? With your mother and father?

I really, really want to see Mom and Dad again, and I know they're probably sad without me, but not them, either. That's not what's... keeping me, here, I guess. In Rat's Alley.

It's also known as Furstensee, but you didn't need to know that. He toyed idly with the black queen. He'd mentioned, earlier, it reminded him of his ex-wife. Marco worked very hard to avoid imagining what Death's ex-wife must be like. If not your parents then you must want to be with Miss Jackie Lynn Thomas. Young love does burn so hot.

Not really, Marco said again. I mean, yeah, I'd love to see her, to tell her I was okay and everything. She really freaked out when everything went down with Ol' Bitey. I'd like to make her feel better, if I could, but it's not her either.

Who, then? Who?

Who indeed. Marco knew the answer. It's Star. I can't move on without seeing Star one last time. I don't know if it's the Blood Moon thingie or that we have a Friendship Thursday date that we owe each other or... I just don't know. I only know that I can't go anywhere until I see her, again. He sighed. I guess I'll be doing the whole ghost thing. I hope I'm not creepy like Hungry Larry.

You won't be, if you ever do become a ghost, but that's not your fate at the moment. He pointed upwards. Can't you hear here? She's calling you. She's (HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME) playing that Shakespearan Rag in fair Verona where we lay our scene.

I hear her, I think. Not with my (MARCO!) ears, but I know she's calling me (HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME). How do I get to her?

You'll figure it out (MARCO) if you think hard enough. He chuckled. Did you think I would do all the work for you, boy?

Well, you're kind of a (HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME) pilot, right? Maybe you could, I don't know, fly me up there.

I'm no pilot, he said, I'm a (MARCOMARCO) figment of the human race's collective imagination (HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME). I can't get you anywhere. And besides, I'd only be a first officer if I was a pilot. My (MARCO) hat isn't big enough.

Then what do I (HURRY UP MARCO PLEASE IT'S TIME) do?

You'll figure it out, I said. (HURRY UP) Come along, lad, and think. (MARCOPLEASEITSTIME).

He had a reponse for the pilot, he really did. It was going to be cutting, intelligent, something for the ages. And yet... it didn't really matter. It was time. He felt himself pulled simultaneously inward, outward and upward, out of Rat's Furstenee and towards the waking world. He really, really hoped that he'd feel better than he would when he'd died but... that was a bridge to cross when he came to it, he supposed.

Star, he thought. I'm coming.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I can drive a fire engine. In other news, enjoy this next chapter!

Star hated Echo Creek's cemetary. She hadn't before. It seemed like a quiet place, the Earth equivalent of Butterfly Castle's Grandam Room. It's where people from this dimension came to remember those who'd come before them, leave an offering of flowers to the spirits of their ancestors and leave more at peace with the world. The system apparently worked, too, at least in Star's observation. The dead remained here except on three days of the year--October 31st, November 1st and November 2nd-- so they must have been pretty satisfied with the situation. Star liked to imagine that she would have been, too. Echo Creek Memorial Gardens bloomed with rainbow flowers in the spring, welcomed humming bees in the summer, burned with bright foliage in autumn and lay fallow and mellow during winter. She'd only been once or twice before, to visit the grave of Marco's Aubelo and bring him his offering of flowers (Star brought him a big box of chocolates, just in case flowers weren't enough or he got hungry) and she found the whole atmosphere peaceful.

That was before. That was before Marco had gone down in a pool of blood, so ravaged that he could not even manage to scream before shock took him, and they buried him beneath this grass that Star hated for its vibrancy. She'd learned enough in biology class to know what that meant. Eatin my friend, she thought. Freakin scavenger is all you are. Grass scavenger. Scaven-grass.

Janna snapped her fingers under Star's nose. "Hey," she said. "Earth to Mewni. Whoo-whoo! We need you to focus, here."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, right." She nodded. "It's your show.

Janna frowned. "I know your sorcery works on that principle--just you drawing some aether off the source in the hobo stew, shaping it and tossing it wherever--but my witchcraft is a little different. I've got to get my mise en place just right, here, or some funky bad juju might happen to us."

"Such as?"

"I know this one girl got turned into a salamander cause she didn't light the candles with exactly the right intensity of flame."

"Shut up! Who?"

"Brianna Crabtree from Lake Forest High School. It happened last summer."

Star nibbled her wand. "Er, Janna-Banana?"

"Yeah?"

"Er, Jay-bee... Bri's not a salamander."

Janna shrugged. "She got better. Now... silence. I've got to prepare." She did for moments that felt like hours and arranged, in a circle around her, ashes from a burned ash tree, wormwood, star anise, frankincense, myrrh, sandalwood and vervain. Each lay where she'd carefully placed it on the tines of a pentacle, packed in grave dirt from Tor House, or more properly dirt from where the ashes of Robinson Jeffers had been scattered on the property. That, Janna had told Star on more than one occasion, had been a profitable field trip. The clean energy flowed just right, there.

As for dirty energy... it heaped in abundance on this ritual, too. A knuckle joint belonging to Joaquin Murrieta, weighed down with all the pain and violence he felt throughout his short, brutal life, gleamed pale at the pentacle's center, near where Janna sat cross legged. She would not elaborate on where it came from, no matter how hard Star pressed, poked or annoyed, only say with an enigmatic smile that she had not stolen it and it was, in fact, a gift from the fresh bones. Star knew, after a point, that it was foolish to pursue any line of inquiry when her Jay-bee wore that expression.

She wore it, now, in front of the grave they'd opened with garden shovels and the sweat of their brows. Star'd pulled her wand upon arrival, but Janna had told her, "We're doing it the old fashioned way."

Star, confused, had asked why and been told, "When a woman has a crack baby you don't give her a puppy." Further elaboration proved unforthcoming. Star, unsure she even wanted to know, just went along with it and turned spade after spade of dirt until she felt fire in her back and arms that hung from shoulders so pumped with blood that they could have popped.

She had drawn a line, though, when Janna moved to open the coffin. This, regardless her occult mise en place, seemed a step too far. She'd shrugged and told Star, "Suit yourself, bae. I guess he'll need the exercise when he gets back. I mean, we did most of the work for his lazy ass, after all. It's not like he'll have to dig or anything, so I guess he's super lucky in that way. And, you know, in not being dead. That's probably pretty lucky, too... unless we stop him from hanging out with Garcia-Lorca or Garcia Marquez or somebody cool like that."

Now they reached the moment of truth. "Marco," Star said. "We need you to, like, uh... stop being dead. And we've done lots to get you back here, so come on and come back now. Hurry up, please. It's time." She wondered if he could hear her across the void.

A line grew across Janna's brow. "Hey, uh, Star," she said, "I know I said this was witchcraft and not sorcery and all but... could I borrow your wand for just a quick sec?"

"Sure," Star said. "Why?"

"Cause Marco's coming back--like, now--I'm not entirely sure I'm not gonna bring him back like he was when he left. Y'know, with his entrails doubling as extrails. So if you don't mind..."

"Oh," Star said. "Sure." She tapped the wand on the lid of the coffin and said, "Ilium redire in viscera!"

Something slopped, flopped and squished in the coffin. Star did not know, and never did wish to find out, what Janna's spell had originally done. The morticians were skilled at their work but... witchcraft could be, at times, erratic. Star's mother had referred to the practice as subtle in extrema, engagement in a delicate dance just to ring a tiny bell across the room. Although Skywynne and her mother Scarlet Phoebe had been excellent witches, in addition to wielding the wand, most Butterfly women preferred a more straightforward approach to the questions of combat and diplomacy. Sorcery made things explode, Star reasoned, and got folks attention a lot better than a creepy wind through the trees that ran cold fingers across the back of your neck through your hair.

That creepy wind, though? It could, on occasion, hit harder than a warnicorn stampede. Star felt comfortable admitting this, and that this was one of those times. Raging silence held sway in the cemetary. The casket's lid rattled once, twice, and then fell silent. Star's heart fell, too. She wondered if, perhaps, this had all been for nothing. That'd be a real anticlimax, she thought. Thought I was gonna get me a crazy-like monster zombie Marco, or something, and didn't even get regular old Marco. Auntie Etheria might have been right about witchcraft after all...

And then the coffin lid popped open. Marco sat up, gasped, grabbed at his stomach. "Holy crap. Holy crap. Jeez!" He shot quick glances around, "Where's the pilot? Where's the chessboard? What the heck--"

Before he could get the words out Star flung herself at him, into the coffin, and threw her arms around his neck. "Oh my corn it worked! You're back... you're back!" She grinned wildly through a curtain of hair and tears made silver in the moonlight. "You're talkin crazy talk about a pilot and stuff but... who cares? You're back and you're not a gooey, creepy gut monster!"

"I, er... didn't know that was an option?" He sighed and wrapped her in his arms. She felt small there, so very delicate and right, though she shook like a captive mouse. "I can't believe you brought me back, Star. I'm glad you did... whatever you did."

"Ahem," Janna said. "How're you gonna be that way when I did all the legwork?"

"Oh," he said. He observed the altar, pentacle, athame and other paraphenalia for her craft. "I'm sorry. Thank you, Janna. Truly."

She shrugged. "No biggie. Just remember who to call when you and Jay-Lynn Tee get divorced, beeb."

He frowned. "Like, you're gonna cast a spell on her for me or you wanna marry me next? I was never super clear."

"Either? I haven't thought that far ahead." She picked up the knuckle joint she'd been playing with. "Frankly I'm so proud of myself right now, that I got Marco and not some hideous Moloch from a hell dimension, that I'd be down for just about anything that you two might think up for the three of us to do."

Marco grimaced. Star followed suite for another reason entirely. "That was an option?"

"Hey," Janna said. "Hey. They call it the art of witchcraft, not the science. Plus I'm working with the equivalent of a second grade education and a college textbook, here. Summoning a Moloch is hard work... they're super shy, after all. I'd have been kind of proud if I'd gotten one of those things."

"Yeah, but we'd have no Marco and a big, ragey red guy," Star said. "Not a victory, Jay-bee."

She shrugged. "Gotta take em where you get em."

Marco meant to say something, he really did, about how even if he was grateful beyond the ability of his mere words to express that they'd resurrected him that some risks weren't worth taking and that children should play with dead things. He never got the chance. A crimson, fiery, swirling portal opened in the air before them and a short, shapely woman with embers in her curls hopped through. It was Hekapoo and, if the tongues of flame guttering at her feet and scorching the graveyard grass at each step were anything to go by, she was pissed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hekapoo takes center stage, for a minute, here. Highlights one of my favorite complicated little pairings.

Hekapoo marched towards Star. Fire curled out from under her small, delicate feet at each step. The graveyard grass smoked in her wake and her hair, often similar to that of an auburn or red haired woman in her resting state, wreathed itself in a sizzling, corcuscant halo that the girls and Marco could neither look at head on nor tear their eyes away from.

She stalked to Star and managed to loom over her, no mean feat considering that Star was almost half a head shorter than the sorceress. She jabbed a slim, blazing finger into Star's chest. It left a smouldering smudge on the teal of her dress. "What. The. Actual. Hell? What are you doing, Star?"

"Er, hey, Hek?"

"Don't you 'hey' me," she said, "and don't you 'Hek' me, either. Right now it's 'Mistress Hekapoo of Muspelheim and the Sefirot of Hod.' I am not pleased with you, princess."

Star's face darkened. "Well, excuse me, Miss Poo of the Suffering Muffins, but I am Princess Star Butterfly, Heir to the Butterfly Throne of Mewni and daughter of Queen Moon the Undaunted, Skywnne Queen of Hours and even Eclipsa Queen of freakin Darkness, for that matter. I don't know if I care how pleased you are with me or not."

"You'll care when I tell you why I am displeased," Hekapoo said. "Come with me, behind that mausoleum."

Star rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. I'm not that dumb. My mom always told me never to go to a second location with someone who's mad enough at you to start tossing spells. If you're gonna set me on fire, missy, then you're gonna do it right here!"

"You're gonna want to come with me, Star," Hekapoo said. She lowered her voice and drew close to Star. She whispered in her ear with breath that felt moist and far hotter than seemed possible. "I have something important to tell you and I'm not super interested in him hearing, ya feel me?"

Star glanced at Marco. He waved and waggled his fingers. "Go on, Star. If H-Poo is this worked up it must be serious."

She hemmed and hawed. "Are you sure, Marco? I mean, you just--"

"I'll be fine," he said. "I feel fine, all things considered. Trust me."

"All right, I guess," she said. "Janna?"

She waved her off. "Don't worry, Star. I got him. He can help me clear all this junk up." She sighed. "I was hoping that bone would be good for another spell but it just burned up. Freakin things are a bitch to get, too."

"See?" Marco grinned in the lopsided way that made Star's knees turn to ice water. "I'm in good hands. I hope. Unless she takes my bones."

"I will not take your bones, Marco," Janna said. "Mostly cause they're not super good bones, but I'd control myself even if they were."

"See?" He paused, took a breath and struggled to find the next words. "And Star... thank you. Just... thank you."

Janna stuck out her tongue. "Typical. Star says a few emotionally charged things and cries while I do all the leg work and she gets all the credit. Must be hot to be a princess."

Star and Hekapoo slid behind the mausoleum to the sound of their bickering. When Star turned to her she found that the sorceress had grown brighter, more furious than before. She seemed ready to lash out in flames. "So," Star said. "Care to let a sister in on why your temperature's so high tonight, Poo?"

"You don't know what you've done," she said. Her flame dimmed. "You really don't. I knew you were ignorant, that Glossaryk had just kinda... let you do whatever, with your training, but..." She chuckled. "This really takes the cake."

"I like cake," Star said, "and I don't make any big claims about not being ignorant but... I don't get what you're saying, Poo. What have I done that's so wrong?"

"Apart from upsetting the natural order of the universe? I don't know, Star, what could you have done?"

"Er, is this about the laser puppies? Cause my babies do not upset the natural order of the universe."

"I'm talking about how you brought Marco back tonight, Star," she said. "It's all just... a mess, now. Up is down, left is right, hot is cold. You've really Starred this one up as you're fond of saying."

"Really? Right is left? Cause..." She flapped her left hand in front of her face, and then her right one. "They're seeming pretty much, like... the same, to me."

"Don't just look with your baby blues, Star," Hekapoo said. "Take a look through your real eyes--your wizard eyes."

Star dipped into the cosmos' hobo stew for a moment, gasped and covered her mouth. "Oh," she said. "Oh."

"No doy, oh," Hekapoo said. "See what I mean, now?"

"I do, Hek, and I'm so, so sorry," Star said. "I didn't think that I would do this. I mean, Marco died before his time--he sure as heck wasn't meant to get eviscerated by a possessed statue of an opossum--so I kinda thought that if Janna and I brought him back we'd be, y'know, doing the right thing., not messing stuff up."

"Necromancy is never the answer, Star."

"Well, Janna says that it's always the answer!" Star pouted. "I'm sorry, Hek. I just didn't know."

"It wouldn't matter if you did or not," she said. "You'd have done it anyway."

"Come again?"

"It's something that I, or one of my clones at least, told Marco once... he wouldn't care who he hurt, or what he did, as long as he got back to you. And you... well, you've one-upped him, princess. You broke the universe to get him back."

"It's just..." Star squirmed. "It's just... he's Marco. I can't imagine life without him. It wouldn't be worth living."

"Don't tell me," Hekapoo said. "Don't tell me how much you care about him. He was my friend, rival and lover for more years than you've been alive, princess. When I heard what happened to him..." She shuddered and, for a moment, Star thought that she was afraid but soon saw the suppressed rage. "Let's just put it this way... opossums pretty much went extinct in my home dimension and it was all I could do to not come here and set fire to your hair at his funeral."

"Er, cause?"

"Because if you weren't here then that... thing... wouldn't have been, either!"

"Er, Hek," Star said, "if I wasn't here then you'd have never met Marco."

She sags. The flames around her seem to dissipate. "I know. Just... let me be angry with you, Star, okay? Don't be reasonable right now."

"All right, Hek," she says. "I'm sorry that Janna and I broke the universe. Can, er..." She squirms. "Can you and Lekmet and all the rest of you fix it?"

"No."

"Oh. Er... so, we're just gonna kinda have to get used to it, maybe?"

"No, Star," Hekapoo said. "The Council can't fix things, can't undo what you did." She smiled nastily. To be fair, though, it would be almost impossible to show that many sharp little fangs and not look a little nasty. "We're not going to fix what you and Janna did, Star... you are."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens. I want to thank everyone, by the way, for all the reading and support! It quite touches my heart.

They met Tom in the front foyer of his dad's castle. None of them knew quite what to expect. Hek had told them, after all, that the lines of life and death were blurred because of what Star and Janna had done. Those lines were Tom's purview, or at least his dad's. Keeping the living and dead separate, and the dead as healthy and happy (or miserable and in torment, depending upon what each soul wanted) was the Lucitor family business. She half expected him to bar them from entry and half expected him to let them in just to fly into one of his rages, explode in purple flames and kick them out on their butts.

That's why it took her so aback when he ran up to Marco, threw his arms around him and said, "Ah, jeez, man. I'm so glad to see you here. I was, like, really worried about you."

Star's eyes grew wide. "This..." she said. "This is so not what I expected."

"What?"

"All the, y'know... emotions and boys hugging boys."

"Maybe not expected," Janna said, "but also not, like, totally uninteresting." She smirked. "I vote that we sit back for a while and kinda see where this one goes."

"Janna!"

She shrugged. "Suit yourself, bae. But don't come crying to me when you don't have any nice home movies to keep you warm tonight."

"So, uh, why were you so worried about me?" Marco said.

Janna snorted. "Apart from the obvious."

"Sure. Apart from the obvious."

"Hasn't anyone told you, dude?" Tom said. "You went missing for, like, a long time."

"Really?"

Star, equally confused, said, "Yeah... we didn't know. What happened?"

"Okay," Tom said. "Okay. You were ear-marked for coming here with a postness of the haste."

"Whoo," Marco said. He waved his hand in mock celebration. "Ear-marked for going straight to hell. My mom's gonna be so proud. Well, after she freaks when she finds I'm alive again, anyway."

"It's not like that," Tom said. "Not hell-hell, y'know? Well..." He squirmed. "I guess hell-hell, cause there's fire and demons and stuff, but not hell-hell-hell cause there wasn't gonna be an eternity of torment or anything. It was gonna be cool! I had a ton of Mackie Hand movies picked out for us to watch and we were gonna troll the fundamentalist kids on Overwatch on X-Box and--"

"I get it," Marco said. "Okay? It was gonna be cool." He laid a hand on Tom's shoulder. "Thanks, bud."

"Sure." He grinned showing sharp little fangs. "My dad's old friends Bathory were gonna provide some un-live music, too."

"Huh?"

Janna nodded. "Good choice. Quothorn was super hot."

Tom perked up. "You know the scene?"

She primped. "I'm pretty sure 'Woman of Dark Desires' is about me, so... yeah."

He scowled. "It's totally about my Aunt Elizabeth so don't even."

Her dark eyes grew wide. "Your... aunt? Any chance we could--"

Before their madness climbed to an apotheosis Marco interrupted them. "So, you said I was supposed to be here... why did I go to the other place, then? Rat's Alley. I had just sort of assumed it was, like, a way-station or stopping point or something."

"Rat's Alley?" Tom ran a hand through his hair. "You didn't happen to meet the pilot, did you?"

"Weird, sorta British guy?"

"The most British you'll ever meet," Tom said.

"What's his deal?"

"Well, as you might guess, some people are not super stoked about being my dad's guests. He was one of them and happened to be a super powerful magician--not a sorceror like Glossaryk or Star's family but someone who used witchcraft, like Janna. He sort of..." He mimed the bars of a cage wrenching apart. "He sort of, like... ran off."

"Ran off? From hell?" Star snorted. "And you guys pick on Castle Butterfly for having lax security!"

"Well, not many people escape, and he didn't get far. I mean, you don't hear about a magician like that just wandering the multi-verse, right?"

"True," Janna said. "What happened to him, then?"

Tom shrugged. "He couldn't go back to the world of the living--it wouldn't have him--he wouldn't come to hell and heaven was a no-go, obviously. He just kind of... stayed there and built up a pocket dimension around himself out of his personality. Rat's Alley."

Star covered her mouth. "It sounds... sad."

"Sorta, maybe, but this magician was not the nicest guy in the world," Tom said, "so don't feel too bad for him. Kind of like your multi-greats Eclipsa if she'd been a witch instead of a sorceress. He might do all kinds of stuff if he got loose."

"Or he might, like, make laser puppies!" Star said.

"I'm thinking three headed laser puppies that breathe fire," Tom said. "Not that those wouldn't be cool, but... y'know. Not good for the environment, or something." He stood a little straighter. "That's part of the problem we're having now, by the way. Since you and Janna reversed all the laws of life and death by being the enterprising little moppets you are... well, he's got a better chance of escaping than he has in years."

"I'm guess that's not gonna be super," Janna said. "I mean, he sounds slightly sexy but..." She gagged. "Those freakin' laser puppies already make enough of a mess on the carpet."

"Right," Tom said. "So... it sounds like we're all agreed."

Star narrowed her eyes. "On what?"

"That's it's best for everyone if Marco just stays with me!" He offered his toothy grin again and wrapped his arm around Marco's shoulder. "It's gonna be so cool, man. There's some serious babe-age down here... well, if you like em pale and slightly muder-y. We can hook you up with a real hottie, dude, trust me. And forget Mackie Hand movies..." He spread his arms wide. "Mackie Hand can be our sensei! We'll take classes together."

"Well, if it'll keep the world from getting totally messed up," Marco said. "I mean, I'd hate to feel responsible. It won't be so bad, especially if my family and friends and Star can visit and stuff."

"Your fam and Starship can totally visit!" Tom said. "See? Gonna be awesome. Just say the word and we'll get this par-tay freakin started, dude."

"No."

All three of them whipped around to look at Star. Tom's eyes burned bright an instant before he said, "Excuse me?"

"I said no, Tom," she said. "You heard me. You're leaving something out--you always are, it's not because you're really lying it's because you get enthusiastic and forget and you're kind of an asshole. I just don't know what it is. I do know it's gonna hurt Marco at some point and... no." She shook her head. "Just no. You can't have him. Take me instead."

He grimaced. "Much as I'd love to do that, Starship--and believe me I never thought I'd be saying this--but... I can't take you. You're among the living, hon--and so is Janna before she gets any ideas. Marco's the one I need."

"Well, you're not getting him," Star said. "And I'm not letting that pilot guy loose, either. There's got to be another way."

"There is, but you're not gonna like it," Tom said.

"Just tell me."

"Just walk out of here," Tom said. "But understand that there's gonna be a sacrifice--one way or another, whether it's Marco or something else we don't know about--if you want the pilot to stay put."

"And how will we know about this sacrifice?"

He shrugged. "How should I know? I can't read the future. You'll know, though."

She nodded. "That sounds good. We'll do it, then."

Marco spoke up. "Wait a minute! I don't like the sound of someone getting sacrificed for me, or any of that. Don't I get a stay?" He grabbed her arm. "Just let me stay, Star. It's the right thing to do."

"No, Marco." She slapped her palm down on his chest. "Stay out of this. It wasn't your fault that the opossum got you, or your fault that I brought you back like this. It was all me. Just... let me do this thing for you."

She turned to Tom. "So we just go?"

"Yep."

"And we'll know the time?"

"Most definitely," he said. "The goetian resonance will be unmistakable." He hesitated a moment. "And you... understand what you're doing?"

She closed her eyes. "I do."

"Then I'll see you when I seey you, Starship." He offered a little salute and then said to Marco. "Make sure to sign onto X-Box Dead tonight so we can get some playtime in, okay? Our kill numbers are slipping."

After Marco agreed to his usual 10pm play date with Tom they took their leave. Somewhere during the journey the hearts on Star's cheeks darkened considerably and changed shape just the tiniest bit. The path took them through a series of caverns and the darkest heart of the Forest of Certain Death, though, so none of the friends noticed anything amiss.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot continues to thicken.

Spring lasted another four weeks and a cold snap around Easter. It always happened that way in Echo Creek, Marco told her. The cool air coming off the ocean had something to do with it, but they were also pretty far to the south and that had a big influence over that kind of thing, too. It was different in Mewni but... what wasn't? "Yeah," she said on one Friendship Thursday or another, "Butterfly Kingdom gets, like, freakin cold in winter and never really warms up until about halfway through Rakhrad."

He'd been confused. "If that's the case, then... how do you grow so much corn?"

She'd blown him off before going back to the movie--The Shining wasn't gonna watch itself, after all. "Oh, silly Marco," she'd said. "That's what Mom's big field o' temperate air is for, doy. We don't turn that of until at least Grobnok fifteenth." She sighed. "Nothing feels as good as that warm, magic air if you've been outside fighting monsters all day!"

She had to admit now, with mud squishing between her toes, sand invading her bathing suit in inconvenient ways and a pail full of super-cute seashells that an early summer day at the beach on Earth might be just a tiny big more awesome even than that feeling. She laid back on her towel and sighed with pleasure. "Sunny day at the beach, chillin with my buds, bucket full of little crab armors... sure beats being dead, huh, Marco?"

He awoke from the muzzy reverie he'd fallen into, had taken to falling into more and more since the incident of his resurrection. "Huh? What'd you say, Star?"

"I said that a day a the beach sure beats the heck out of being dead!"

"Yeah, you're right," he said. "Sure. Sure."

She frowned. "Darn tootin I am." She poked his arm. "Cause there definitely aint no beach in the Underworld."

"No kidding," he said. "I bet Tom would have tried to rig up something crazy to take it's place, though, if he knew I liked it."

"Totes, totes," she said. "Probably, like, the Lake of Fire or something. And, I mean, a warm day at the beach is one thing but that's just ridiculous."

"Sure." He yawned. "This warm sand is making me sleepy."

She leaned over him. "Are you sure you're all right, Marco? You kind of haven't been, y'know, yourself, lately."

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said. "Just worried about... y'know."

"The pilot?"

"Him, the sacrifice--whatever that means."

She waved him off. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"It sounded like the opposite of nothing, Star," he said. "It sounded like very something."

"Like, nothing we can't handle, I mean," she said. "Y'know, with my magic. Pew, pew!"

"I dunno," he said. "Maybe. We'll see." Jackie caught their eye, on the her surfboard paddling out to meet a tall swell a hundred or so yards off shore. The sheer mastery and freedom she'd shown over this enormous body of water, larger than anything on Mewni, appealed to Star, but the lagoon blue bikini she rocked was having more of an effect on Marco than anything so abstract. She'd been ripping the curls all day, well-muscled legs hanging tight to the board, flat stomach braced against the forces of physics and strong, smooth arms spread to grip the air for every trace of balance it offered. For a long moment Marco couldn't tear his gaze away and Star, unnerved at how little he'd been interested in anything lately, couldn't bring herself to interrupt his good time. Finally he said, "It's a shame Janna couldn't make it, today."

"Totally," Star said. "She said something about the 'scare-ball,' though, and how her people had been persecuted by it long enough. I think she's going downstairs to hang with Tom."

"Y'know, she's one of the only people I know who can't take 'go to hell' as an insult," Marco said.

"Yeah, when Brittney said it to to her about a week ago she just said, 'I'm going there tonight for Netflix and chill.' She... did not know quite how to take that."

"To be fair it is a statistically improbable phrase."

"Those are the best kind." Star's face grew bright. "Hey! You think that since Janna is... well, not dating-dating Tom, but, y'know, whatever it is they're doing and their in the underworld so much... er, you think that might count as the sacrifice? Y'know, he said we'd know it when it happened, and that just hit me like a ton of bricks and..." She mimed balancing a weight on each hand. "Sounds sorta awesome to me, yo?"

"I dunno, Star," he said. "I don't think it's gonna be that easy. That's a good thing--for a given value of good, at least, since I don't feel like the multiverse is entirely safe with those two putting their heads together. I feel like this sacrifice is going to be ugly, at least as ugly to us as the life-death reversal and the pilot coming back would be for the world at large."

"Yeah, I figure," she said. "I just had kinda hoped."

"It does spring eternal, right?" He frowned. "Hey, I don't see Jackie--"


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's a good idea to know the terms before you make a deal. Sometimes it wouldn't change a thing.

Star knew before it happened. She flung herself out into the waves even though it wet her hair into a bright, yellow plaster against her scalp, invited stinging salt into her eyes and all but ruined the delicate green fabric of her cute, Mewman one-piece. No, she thought. No, no. This isn't happening. It can't be, right?

Things hadn't really been cool between her and Jackie for awhile. Getting someone's boyfriend disemboweled by a possessed, demonic were-opossum could do that to a friendship, Star reflected, even if you used witchcraft and just a little dabbling of sorcery to re-write the laws of the universe and bring him back. It had been icy at the wake and downright frigid at the funeral. Afterward, at school? She'd been happy to see Marco back, everyone had, even if they were a little confused by it all--the weight of magic had a way of implanting memories and making them realer than the original signifiers had been until they were, in word and deed, the truth--but could not bring herself, somehow, to feel comfortable around Star the way she had in the past. Some nagging, lurking issue hovered just below the surface of what she knew, Star understood, and like grit in an oyster worried at the soft tissue of uncertainty until true doubt arose.

And I get it, Star thought. She knew, after it happened with Ol' Bitey, that I was the screw up that my mom and everyone else knows I am. I mean, my freakin tapestry is gonna say 'Star the Screw Up,' and it'll probably be me setting the castle on fire with a rainbow. I know it, you know it, the corn knows it... but now...

Now, Star thought, she knows it and doesn't know she knows it. Only three of us really know, Marco, Janna and me, and we can't tell or it might break the unvierse again. Even after the sacrifice.

The sacrifice.

Star knifed through the surf on the back of a narwhal. I'm coming, Jackie. Even if you hate me, don't quite know why and don't know you do anyway...well, Marco loves you and I do, too, girl. I've got your back.She winced. I might not be able to do much for you, I don't think I'm gonna be able to, but... I can be here with you while this goes down. You were a good friend to me, and a good girlfriend to Marco, and you deserve that much.

Star made it to her faster than any human rescue effort could have. It might, had things been different in the magical climate, have even made a difference, though. Star saw it through what the sage Petrikova called her "wizard eyes." It wasn't just a fifteen year old girl, her friend and Marco's first love, that danced in the waves on ragdoll limbs. Jackie tossed to and fro with all the weight of hermetic meaning behind her movements. They held the Well of Souls in its upright position, kept the pilot's dark face from doing more than peering through a lattice-work.

Star held fast to her limp hand, let herself be buffeted on the riptide with her. It shouldn't have been you, boo. I don't know if I'd have made the deal if I knew it was gonna be. I'd have, like... well, I'd have figured something out. You've got to believe me. I thought it would be me. I'm the sacrifice that makes sense, right? I'm Star the Unprepared, Star the Useless. I'm the one who screwed it up, I'm the one who should suffer to set it right. She smiled, grimly. I know your legs are on point, girl, but I don't know if even they can hold up the Well of Souls.

It took a few minutes for the finality of the situation to set in. Star knew something, too, when she looked into the Well's mirrored water, saw it reflected in the pilot's eyes where he strained against the bondage he'd imposed on himself through pride. Knowing the alternative, Star realized, I'd have done this anyway. You're a great girl, Jackie, and I love ya like a sis, but... Marco is Marco. I broke the laws of life and death so that I wouldn't have to face a world without him in it. It's not you. It's. Not. You. It was supposed to be me, but it could have been anyone. Ponyhead, Kelly, Janna, Angie... even Mom or Dad. Even if I'd had to let the pilot through, for that matter. So what if he'd destroyed the world, right? It wasn't much of a world at that point, anyway.

Star knew it the moment she looked into those ancient eyes, possessed by an agony of irony and cynicism, knew they were armor scabbed across an earnest strong as hers. She offered the pilot a little salute with her free hand, knew the truths he offered and hated herself for them. Hek was right, she thought. We'd hurt ourselves, hurt anyone, to help each other. Maybe a friendship this strong isn't healthy, or it's more like a sickness or something. I don't know... I'm not smart enough to really know, but... I know this feels awful just like I know I'd do it again in a heartbeat for eternity.

Star clung to Jackie's hand until they washed up on the beach a few hours later. Water-rescue personnel had searched frantically for them--two of Echo Creek's darlings couldn't just go missing like that--and Marco had gone nearly out of his mind. Star awoke on the wet sand and the first thing she felt was his arms around her, hugging her tight. Jackie was long gone in a big white and red van by that time.

Everyone talked, later, about how brave Star had been to dive right into the water, how she'd done all she could to save her friend, how even magic couldn't accomplish everything and accidents, well... sometimes they just happened. That's what made the accidents, right? When the local media picked it up they said the same thing, said Star was a hero and downplayed the role of an eldritch narwhal because the world just wasn't ready for some things. It pouted for for days on end afterwards.

Star looked through her wizard eyes and saw the Well of Souls upright. She could still see the pilot's wizard eyes, though, reflected in her own. It took Marco to point something else out to her, later, while she recovered in a hospital bed she'd been taken to for overnight observation. His dark eyes grew huge and grave. "Your cheeks," he said, and let his fingertips drift softly across them.

Star did not believe it until she looked into a mirror and saw the deuce of spades where a pair of hearts had been.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star and Co. continue to learn about consequences.

For the second time in as many days, Star and Marco went to hell. Janna had already spent the night and chosen to stay waiting for them. The fluffy crimson bathrobe and bedroom shoes looked almost as cute on her as the wild disarray of her bedhead. She nodded to her two friends, raised her cup of steaming coffee and said, "Sup."

"Hey, hey," Star said. "So... have you seen...?"

"Jackie?" She nodded. "Yeah."

Star winced. "She looking good?"

"Sorta soggy. I mean, good all things considered."

"Oh, okay. Good, good. So..." Star stared at Janna's feet. "She's not, like, too pissed with me, is she?"

"Not anymore. I mean, she was--for a long time, over the Marco thing, but I think you knew that--and for a little bit when she first got here. I mean, dying can have that effect on you, right?" She tossed a significant glance at Marco. "Right?"

He rubbed his shoulder. "I wasn't ever really mad... It was weird for me. I guess I just went too quick to know what the heck was going on and then... I didn't come here, right? I went to a weird place."

Janna shrugged. "Weird place, po-tah-to. Point is, chick, she's not mad anymore. That's another effect that dying has on you. A lot of being happy, sad, angry, anything really has to do with our bodies. The hormones and chemicals and junk inside us. When that's not as much of a factor, well..." he shrugged. "I guess you get a little bit of perspective. She did say it was cool how fast you came to her and that you stayed with her the whole time."

"I couldn't have done anything else, Jay-Bee, not and lived with myself."

"Totes." Janna narrowed her eyes. "So, uh... what's up with your cheeks, hon?"

"Oh!" Star's hands flew to her face. "Uh... nothing. I think it may be a phase. Or a rash. Or..."

"Or you embraced some real darkness at the beach," Janna said. She threw up devil horns. "I get it. Most metal. But... be careful with yourself."

Star glowered. "You're one to talk! You're all but living in hell for goodness' sake!"

She shrugged again. "Beats workin for a livin."

Before Star could answer Tom emerged from a nearby doorway. He slipped an arm around Janna's waist, pressed a kiss against her cheek and said, "Hey. Sup, Starship." He nodded towards Marco. "So, I've, uh... I've got her all, y'know... squared away. Dad let me take care of all the arrangements since she's a friend and all."

"She feeling all right?" Marco said.

"More or less." Tom shrugged. "This place isn't too bad, after all. You know that. And it's mostly temporary, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Star said.

"I mean," he said, "that she won't be here forever."

"I thought that's what happened when you died," she said. "That it meant you went to some place--here, I guess--for ever and you never, ever came back to Earth or Mewni or... wherever."

"Sorta half right," he said. "I mean, she won't come back to Earth as Jackie Lynn Thomas. That phase of her existence is behind her. She'll stay here in the Underworld doing whatever seems right--she's skateboarding, right now, and probably will do a lot of that even if it seems like she's sort of soured on the concept of surfing--until she's drunk deeply enough of the waters of Lethe."

"That sounds bad," Star said. "Is it bad? What happens then?"

"Well," Tom said, "it's not 'bad' so much as it is just a natural progression. You're not a baby anymore, Star, nor a little girl, and an oak tree isn't an acorn anymore. She'll still be, and still be herself in a lot if important ways, but in a lot of others she won't be Jackie Lynn Thomas. She won't love the ocean, necessarily, or read history books or like to skate." He winced and looked Marco directly in the eyes. "She'll remember you for a while, bud, but eventually... well... you might wanna visit her and say 'hi' before too long."

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah. I guess." He took his leave to make the visit. They let him go without comment. There are some things a guy has to do by himself, after all, without a lot of talk to clutter up his mind.

Finally, Star said, "I just feel so bad for him, and her. Being stuck here can't be awesome--no offense, Tom."

"None taken. I know what you mean."

"It's not all that awful," Janna said. "I mean, Tom told me that souls travel together. We've probably all been linked before, somewhere, on Earth, Mewni or somewhere else."

"Yeah," Tom said. "You might have been Jackie's mom, or Janna might have been your husband, or Star might have been your annoying kid sister." His third eye winked at her seemingly independent of the other two. "She could totally dominate in that role."

"So we could meet Jackie again and not know her at all," Star said. "All cause I'm... well, cause I Starred it all up."

"You might," he said. "But don't think of it that way. You made a choice, Star. All of us made a series of choices and they had consequences. The only thing to do with those is live with them."

"Yeah," she said. "That doesn't mean I have to like it, though, or that it doesn't hurt." She sighed. "I wonder if it'll ever hurt less?"

"I don't know," he said. "I've got a lot of power and a little knowlege but not necessarily enough wisdom to go along with it. Kind of like you."

She snorted. "You must be super terrified all the time, then, cause I haven't met anything I can't screw up. Jeezly-crumble!"

"You're stumbling through it, Starship, just like the rest of us. We're all stuck in the thick of this, don't have any idea what we're really doing and seem like we make more bad decisions that good ones."

She giggled--actually giggled--for the first time in what felt like forever. "I don't know if that's comforting or not."

"I for one have chosen a blend of terror and nihilism," Janna said. "But that's just me. Want some coffee while Marco makes his visit?"

She did. They reminisced over three cups--Tom took his black, Janna with enough sugar to make syrup and Star as blonde as herself--for a long time. Eventually, Marco reappeared. His hair stood at odd angles and his face held a bittersweet expression. Janna did not ask him what knowledge had the dead, for she now knew, nor did Star question him about the moments he'd spent with Jackie. A man needed some secrets, after all, and some he might even take to the grave. He'd brought these from someone else's, after all.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last of this tale... I'm glad everyone has enjoyed it! It was difficult to write in a lot of places but... I'm glad that I pushed myself and got there.

On the next day Star found herself in the Butterfly Castle throne room across from her mother at an ashen table inlaid with silver designs sacred to and emblematic of the Butterfly dynasty. She saw Solaria's thunderbolts, Celena's moons, Festivia's goblets and Dreama's sleepy lions. Phoebe's crimson roses chased Hippolyta's unicorns and Maryam's sailing ships followed Boedicca's chariots in rapid succession before giving way to Hermetica's quills. It was a good table, Star thought, one that you could really feel proud of sitting at. Between the diamonds, stars, hearts, moons and arcana both major and minor only one heraldic emblem of Mewni was missing.

Star gulped. The missing emblem was, of course, the same one it always had been. The one adorning her cheeks at this very moment.

She tried to smile. "So, uh, Mom... how's it going? We gonna have us a nice chat? Here at the grandma table? Cause I sure love the grandma table. I sure love it. I sure do. And talking with my mom. You. My mom. The greatest mom in--"

"Stop chattering, Star," Moon said. "We're here to talk about something serious."

Star's face fell. "I kind of figured we were. It's about... yeah. Yeah. Isn't it?"

"You mean how you unbalanced the forces of life and death with necromancy, came close to unleashing a dangerous maniac into the dimensional matrix and then sacrificed your little friend on the altar of necessity to keep it from happening? Oh, no, Star. It's impossible that we could be gathered to talk about a chain of events so trivial."

"Oh! Whew." Star wiped her brow. "Cause I thought that was totally what we were gonna talk about."

"It is, Star."

"But you said--"

"I was being sarcastic, dear. Now..." She let the back of a finger brush her daughter's cheek. "What's done is done, but... you do know why these have come to you, yes?"

"I embraced dark magic a little too tightly, maybe just a smidge," Star said. "A little. And now I'm wearing EQ oh D's spades on my cheeks and Marco's looking at me all funny and--" Her eyes brimmed over with tears. "I hate it, Mom. I can't stand this. I tried to do the right thing and I just made it worse--I made everything awful. Is it gonna be okay, again? Am I gonna get my hearts back? I like my hearts!"

"You should," Moon said. She held her daughter's chin and tilted her head back. "You have only flirted with the darkness, no more deeply than I did when I used Skotia's spells for my battles with Toffee and perhaps far less. Your cheeks are apt to return to their original state before long, my love."

"And Marco? And the other stuff?"

"That?" Moon shook her head the slightest amount. "I cannot tell you that, my dearest daughter. Your cheek emblems are an easy matter to understand, a mere fluctation in the magical field in and around your body. Your relationship with your friend, on the other hand..." She smiled, sadly. "Humans are complicated, and so are Mewmans, and what you have done changed his life irrevocably... and that was only after it ended and you hauled him back into it! The only thing that will set things aright is time... and I cannot promise that even time will heal the wounds he has suffered in this adventure, Hekapoo's dimension..." She laid her hand over Star's. "The boy has bled much, don't you agree?"

"Totes," Star said. "That were-opossum really got him good."

"Well," Moon said, "that's not quite what I meant, but... well..." She pressed her fingers against her eyes. "You've got the right idea, I suppose."

"I do? Oh. Good." She exhaled sharply. The floof of hair that draped across her eyes fluttered and then returned to normal. "I can't tell you how awful I feel, though, seriously. When I heard 'sacrifice,' I thought I'd be sacrificing myself! It's easy to--"

"'It's easy to sacrifice myself,' you were going to say," Moon said, "'but hard to sacrifice another person.' Yes. Now you understand."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"All my career as queen, and during my wars with Toffee and his monsters before as Moon the Undaunted, I dove into battle without fear. If I died? It was nothing, to me." She clenched a fist by her cheek. "Death is merely an adenture in another dimension. That's what the great Draconian philosopher, Grigius, told me once. That's what he told me before he fell defending a position that I ordered him to defend. Do you see, Star?"

"Uh, kinda."

"Grigius died because of my orders. And what you did, all unwitting, with your friend Jackie is what I have had to do so, so many times that I feel like a part of my soul became blackened and burned. Grigius, Lil' Chauncey, more Mewman soldiers than I can even remember. That's the agony of being a queen, Star. You aren't just expected to sacrifice your life to the greater good, if necessary, but the lives of others. And if the consequences of it hurt more than you can bear?" She stood, circled behind Star and laid a hand on her daughter's back. A gentle pressure brought the slumping princess upright. "We must never show it, my love. We must stand strong under the pressure for if we break? So breaks Mewni."

"That sounds kinda awful..."

"Welcome to royalty, sweetest Star."

"Royalty sucks." Star sighed. "I mean, I just stole her life from her, just like that--" Star snapped her fingers. "Just like that, without even asking or anything."

"You did so that others might live."

"But if I hadn't gone along with Janna's ritual and brought Marco back in the first place then we wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place!"

"You made that choice, too," Moon said. "He was more important to you than anything--you made that clear when you dragged him from his ultimate fate and swore to the great Well of Souls that you would pay whatever price it demanded."

"Royalty really, really sucks."

"It does, my love. Are you going to go talk to your friend?"

"Marco? I think he's kinda mad at me."

"He might be," she said. "River was when his uncle died defending me, at least for a while. Or he could be confused. You'll never know unless you talk to him. A queen must never back down, Star. She must be undaunted."

"That's you, Mom," Star said. "Moon the Undaunted."

"And you, dearest daughter, are Star the Irrepressible. Go and work your magic." And so she did.


End file.
